Venting poems I will just fucking kill myself English is not my first language

(Completed) poetry and prose for a girl i probably should stop writing for (Copyright © 2016 by vanillaVDE)

This is a poetry/journal book about my experience in the Psych Ward. It's all true accounts with names changed for privacy. I wrote this while in the ward, except for the last day. Please take care in reading. If topics of suicide, depression, rape, molestation, and other possible topics are triggering for you, this may not be suitable to be read. [This poetry book is completed ✔] Ranking: #1 in poetry #4 in poem #10 in nonfiction #16 in Short story

Tacenda (n.) things better left unsaid, matters to be passed over in silence Pronuonciation: ta-'chen-da English |Origin: Latin

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|| poetry for the people i've loved, hated, lost & found || lower case intended. highest rankings: #4 in poetry / #1 in unsaid

This isn't an ordinary love story you see in the movies or read in other books. This is a sad one, and perhaps a devastating one. But that's what makes the good and juicy stories right? I'm not going to reveal my name, because what good would bring that? But this one is a never forgetting one, one that I'll wake up to everyday. One that I'll cry myself to. One that I will never thinking about. And if you know who you are, and if your reading this...You never did anything, my mistake was talking to you.

Poetry about the issues of the world

Words heal, Words mend. Let these ones wash over you, Filling your cracks with gold. Poetry. Mostly mine. Prose. Mostly mine. Quotes. Mostly mine. Some are submitted by friends, Some are from famous authors, But credit is given where credit is due. Read at your own risk.